


Freaky Tuesday

by SaffronSnitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I love the old school tropes of Jily, It's a little sweet & a little horny, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), because why not, body switching trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaffronSnitch/pseuds/SaffronSnitch
Summary: “Prongs?” Peter asked as Lily threw the blankets off of her and rushed past him to the mirror.The face of James Potter looked back at her.Holy shit.She lifted her arms — lanky yet muscular, she could discern — and prodded at Potter’s face, his high cheekbones, his stubbled jaw, his eyes squinting… oh, that blurriness.“Where are his glasses?” she demanded, whirling around to face the three boys. They were still wide-eyed, but Sirius had started to relax into his obscene, smirky normality. Lily’s heart rate was skyrocketing and she felt a bit woozy, so she grabbed the first thing she could focus on and stuck with it. “Where does he put his glasses?”“What do you mean his?” asked Remus, and Sirius strode forward.“Listen, I know it’s crazy,” Lily began. “But… I’m not Potter. I’m Lily. I don’t know what’s going on but I can’t see for shit. Where are Potter’s glasses?”
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 183
Collections: Favorite on HP





	1. The Waking Up (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm usually a big AU fan, but I decided to try my hand at some canon-ish-Hogwarts-era-Jily-trope-nonsense. Nothing quite like a body switching to get the blood flowing!

When Lily woke up in the morning, everything was blurry.

Not blurry in a tear-streaked way, or like she had stayed up late and slept wretchedly. Everything was just…  _ off _ , slightly, fuzzy and out of focus. She didn’t feel hungover, although her body ached all over. Groaning slightly at the light streaming through her windows, she rolled over and was greeted by Sirius, Remus, and Peter standing over her.

“Ah!” she screamed in surprise, and it came out hoarse and wrong. Maybe she was hungover?

“You okay, mate?” Sirius asked, brows pinched together in a face of concern she had never seen before. “You were tossing and turning a lot and muttering all sorts of things.”

“What—” Lily started, intending to ask the boys what the hell they were doing in the girls’ dorm, just staring at her sleeping, but her voice came out low and familiar, and she was so surprised that she cut herself off and grabbed at her throat, wondering if she was imagining things, but  _ no,  _ her fingers touched a hard lump on her neck, and her shoulders were broad and wide…

“Prongs?” Peter asked as Lily threw the blankets off of her and rushed past him to the mirror.

The face of James Potter looked back at her.

_ Holy shit. _

She lifted her arms — lanky yet muscular, she could discern — and prodded at Potter’s face, his high cheekbones, his stubbled jaw, his eyes squinting…  _ oh _ , that blurriness.

“Where are his glasses?” she demanded, whirling around to face the three boys. They were still wide-eyed, but Sirius had started to relax into his obscene, smirky normality. Lily’s heart rate was skyrocketing and she felt a bit woozy, so she grabbed the first thing she could focus on and stuck with it. “Where does he put his glasses?”

“What do you mean  _ his?” _ asked Remus, and Sirius strode forward.

“Listen, I know it’s crazy,” Lily began. “But… I’m not Potter. I’m  _ Lily.  _ I don’t know what’s going on but I can’t see for shit. Where are Potter’s glasses?”

There was a beat of silence before Sirius started to laugh. “Nice one,” he said cuffing Lily (well, Potter’s body) on the shoulder. Lily opened her mouth again to talk but Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. Like we would believe that.”

“It is possible,” said Remus quietly, and Lily turned full-force towards her fellow prefect, sure he would back her up. “Body-switching charms are fairly rare and difficult to get right, but… I’ve read about them a bit.”

Lily gesticulated at Remus in affrontive self-righteousness. “See!”

“I don’t buy it,” said Sirius again, crossing his arms. “You’re just being a prat. Now come on, we’re going to be late for breakfast, and I know you want to ask Evans to carry her bag to Transfig or some other loony way of flirting.”

“I-” Lily started again, not sure what to argue against first, and then she doubled over at full realization. “Holy crap! Is Potter in my body right now?” This was too much. Her vision got swimmy and she stumbled to sit on the nearest trunk. She pressed her hands into her eyes until her vision went all fireworks. She wasn’t going to cry right now. She needed to figure out what was going on.

When she removed her face — well, Potter’s face — from her hands, she found that Remus had taken pity on her and grabbed Potter’s glasses. She took them and put them on, finding that Potter really was blind as a bat. She blinked a few times until she could see clearly through the lenses (and a few stray tears).

Peter piped up. “Well, how about you tell us something only Lily would know?” He glanced at Sirius and Remus. “Like…” 

“Sam Pearson’s dick size,” Sirius shot at her, grinning widely. Lily flushed. She and Sam had dated for a few weeks at the start of term, but she had never seen him naked and surely Sirius knew that, as Sam had scurried off and proclaimed to the world that Lily was a prude and “wouldn’t give it up.” Potter had hit him with a rather strong knee-reversal hex afterwards. Lily had pretended to be angry at him for retaliating, but secretly was pleased. She shook her head and tried to think.

“What about…” Lily wracked her brain. Ideally, she would’ve gathered blackmail on Sirius and flaunted it at him, but that wouldn’t be of much use in this situation. Then she spun around and pointed at Remus. “I know you’re a werewolf!” 

For a terrifying moment, Lily thought she was wrong. Sure, she had never confronted the topic with Remus before, but she wasn’t dumb, and she knew that he missed patrols whenever there was a full moon, or that he was exhausted soon after, and his friends tended to pick fewer fights in the days leading up to the end of the lunar cycle, so she had evidence to back up her hypothesis. But still, it was a big assumption, and suddenly she regretted blurting it out so insensitively. In her defense, she was stuck in James Potter’s freakishly gangly body, so maybe Remus wouldn’t hold it against her.

But it was Sirius who spoke. “Well, duh, Prongs, we all know that.” 

Fuck. Right. Well, at least it was confirmation.

“Uh, okay. Um, I can quote from  _ Star Wars. _ ” Maybe a muggle thing would give enough confirmation for Remus to convince Sirius that she was telling the truth. But Sirius shook his head again.

“You dragged us all to the movies last summer, remember? Your whole ‘practicing muggle life to impress Evans’ nonsense.” 

He had done that? Lily tried to imagine Potter and Sirius, two of the most helplessly muggle-clueless wizards she had ever met, striding into the movie theater, asking for tickets, and buying popcorn. She almost smiled at the thought. She did think Potter would enjoy Star Wars, with all its lasers and aliens. Plus, he was such a Han Solo, what with his obnoxiously ruffled hair and charm-your-knickers-off smirk…

She coughed, and silently filed that thought away. Far, far, away. Into at least the next galaxy.

She got it. The perfect piece of information. But she had to be subtle about it, because it really was private, and she didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. 

Once more, she turned to Remus. “Walking back from Slughorn’s Halloween party. We stopped before the painting of the angry wizard pirate. You told me…” She let the silence string out. The way Remus’ eyes widened, she knew he knew exactly what she was referencing.

Slughorn always provided copious drinks at his Slug Club parties, but Lily rarely partook. But Halloween, maybe because Sev was there, lurking and looking at her longingly, or maybe because she was still facing the fallout of Sam’s gossipping, she let herself get smashed. Remus had been tipsy too — getting ready, he said, for the drinking that awaited him back in his room with the rest of his friends.

She had pulled him to a stop before the painting, winded from some story she was telling him about summer flings, full of giggling and side-bars, and whirled around to lean suggestively against the wall.

“We need to get you a girlfriend,” she said, nudging at him playfully. “Half of Hogwarts is in love with you, I bet.” 

Remus had looked stricken. “Har har,” he tried, weakly, but she poked him again. She got very feely when she was drunk.

“What about Hestia Jones! She’s quiet and sweet, like you.”

“I’m gay.”

Lily stopped her hands from playing the drums on Remus’ collarbones and pulled back to look at him. He was glancing nervously from side to side, but when he returned her gaze, she could see that he looked steady. 

“Oh,” Lily started, and put her hand on his arm. “Thank you for telling me.”

Remus looked down, then said with almost surprise, “That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.” 

That made sense to Lily, given how he was gnawing on his inner cheek and wasn’t quite looking at her, but also struck her as odd. That she would be the first to know, and not Potter or Black or Pettigrew, moved her enough to put her arms around him.

After a moment, he gave in and hugged her back, then released her and cleared his throat. “Right,” he said. “Shall we keep going?” And they did.

Now, several months later, Lily wasn’t sure if Remus had told any of his friends. But Remus gave a jolt of his chin, directed at Sirius.

“It’s Lily. She’s telling the truth.”

Sirius’ eyes darted between Lily and Remus for a moment, then he shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” he said, not pushing it. 

“Wait,” said Peter suddenly. “Then how did you know about Moony’s… furry little problem?”

“I guessed,” Lily said, simply, then starting wringing her hands. “What am I going to do?”

“I think the first thing should be to find James,” said Remus, and he moved to pick up his bag. It was the first moment that Lily had realized that James must have fallen asleep in his uniform already, his pants slightly crinkled. She threw on some robes and followed the boys out of the room, down the stairs, through the common room, towards the Great Hall, where they would try and find Potter, who looked like herself, and  _ shit, _ this won’t be fun.


	2. The Waking Up (Part 2)

James, in classic fashion, had overslept that morning. Practice the night before had been grueling by his own design, and he barely had time to shower before rushing to the library to tutor a second year in Transfiguration. He stayed there in the library until late, finishing a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. On his way out, he was nearly falling asleep standing up. 

He had run into Evans right before he was going to slip into a secret passage, and he played it off poorly. Evans had looked hard at the paneling, prodding it to see if it moved, while James had babbled about something random, Quidditch or dinner, to try and distract her. Finally, she had let it go, rolling her eyes but offering him a small smile.

He had asked to walk her back to the Common Room, then, and since she was on her way there too (after a late-night brewing session with Slughorn, who she had been conducting research with), she agreed. 

The two of them had walked in silence at first. They weren’t enemies anymore — they had both long since cooled off over the fifth year catastrophe — but they weren’t quite friends yet, either. And James still got so flustered around her, stumbling over his words and ruffling his hair (a tic even in non-stressful situations), that he sometimes found it hard to even look right at her. He found that if he kept his gaze turned forward, then he could see her bright hair out of his peripheral vision, just enough to remind him of her presence without making him walk into a wall by how distractingly pretty she was.

(He did that, once — walk into a wall. It had been their fourth year, after winning a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, his first match as captain. She had found him at the party. Some seventh year he didn’t know had pushed a cup of warm, foamy beer into his hands, which he had been sipping slowly, too distracted by the thunder of people clapping him on the back and saying nice things. He remembers that Evans wasn’t there at first, although she had been at the match. He had the unfortunate ability to hone in on her location in mere seconds, a talent well-cultivated once they returned to Hogwarts their second year and she had gotten mind-numbingly pretty. But here, in the Gryffindor Common Room, while he was getting lightly buzzed off a stale drink, he hadn’t noticed Evans stepping in until she was right beside him. Then, she had offered him a rare, dazzling smile, congratulated him, and touched his arm. He had been so flabbergasted that he turned to follow her as she went to get punch and promptly ran into the wall. Padfoot still never lets him live that down).

Their walk was mostly uneventful, except for a Slytherin fourth year that Evans had told off for setting a tapestry on fire. The Slytherin hadn’t looked happy at that, but Evans, in her ever-present compassion and kindness, had let him go without protest. 

They had gotten back to the Common Room quietly, although towards the end Evans had asked him some questions about how Quidditch was going, and James had been able to rant and brag about how exhausted he was. Once inside, they had gone their separate ways, and James was so dead on his feet that he fell asleep with his clothes still on, having only the foresight to toss his glasses to the side before hitting the pillow. 

Now, though, James was realizing he slept far later than he should’ve. The room was already bright, and when he sat up, scrabbling for his glasses on his side table, he saw the room was empty. 

No glasses. Fine eyesight. To his credit, it didn’t take him long at all to find a mirror, to look at Evans’ reflection, and to feel very,  _ very _ queasy.

As vile as he felt even thinking it, what with the whole _ body-switching charm bollocks situation _ , Evans looked beautiful in the morning. She wore light makeup — if any — most days, but now, with her hair bent to one side and sleep in her eyes, James thought she had never looked prettier.  _ Or sexier, _ the horny teenage boy peabrain yelped from between his ears, and he wanted to throw himself off the Astronomy tower.

Okay. So. Clearly, he and Evans had been subjecting to a body-switching charm. He didn’t know the first thing about reversing them, but there had to be some way — maybe an antidote, some sort of potion. He figured Evans would know how, with her talent for Potions, though James mulled over the possibility of owling home for his father. But no, his mother would inevitably intercept the message and would try to interfere with some hogwash dating tips. Sometimes it seemed that Euphemia wanted James to get together with Evans even more than he did. (Except for late at night, when, in the privacy of his tapestried bed, breath catching in his chest as he touched himself, James was the world’s number one James+Lily fan). 

Okay. First things first. Find Evans — er, find himself, rather. He started out the door in a hurry, then backtracked to the mirror. Evans would hate him forever if he ran down the corridors of Hogwarts in her  _ (bloody)  _ skimpy pajamas. He held his breath, overwhelmed by the brief mind-flooding idea of changing, but then shook the thought out of his head. He was respectful, dammit, and so he took his — her — wand and transfigured the pajamas into Evans’ typical uniform. (Slightly mournfully, thanks to his horny teenage boy peabrain). 

Now he was ready. He ran down to the Common Room and into the hallway, only to be greeted by hundreds of students milling around, chatting loudly and making their way to the first class of the day. Holy Hippogriffs, did he sleep that late? Thankful that he at least had Transfiguration with Evans and the Marauders first thing on Tuesdays, he skidded through the halls towards the classroom, attracting more than a few confused glances his way. The witches and wizards of Hogwarts had probably never been treated to the view of Lily Evans full-out sprinting through the corridors before, but he didn’t stop. 

Almost sliding past the door (were girls’ shoes  _ always _ this slippery, with no sole traction?), James looped his hand around the doorknob and thrust it open, pushing Evans’ hair out of his eyes triumphantly.

The entire class turned to face him, and Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look. “You’re late, Miss Evans.”

James opened his mouth to shoot off an excuse when he remembered he probably shouldn’t get a detention when inhibiting the body of a teacher’s pet prefect. Instead, he opted for a soft, “I know. Sorry, professor,” before turning and spotting the one empty seat in the middle row near the window. He walked there quickly, cheeks burning a little, then dropped into the chair, bent down instinctively, and realized he had completely forgotten to grab Evans’ bag. He had literally run into the classroom late with no school materials. 

He glanced left, intending to ask to borrow parchment and a quill, and was met with his own, familiar, bespeckled face, looking positively murderous. Uh oh. 


	3. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I know this chapter is still setting things up, but I promise there's action in the next chapter!

Lily did not grind away for nearly six and a half years just to have James Potter muck up her reputation in one fell swoop. Gritting her teeth, she pulled parchment and quill out of Potter’s bag and leaned over to his desk. Then she used the pretense of helping him out to whisper through gritted teeth: “What. Is. Wrong. With. You.”

“I overslept,” James whispered back, and it was _weird._ Lily knew that it was her body, her voice speaking the words, but all of it was James, the way he smiled sideways with her mouth, or raised just one eyebrow (a skill she had tried to teach herself but was never able to actually accomplish). Even his posture, sloping over the back of the chair, was so clearly Potter that Lily was shocked no one had called the two of them out on their obvious switcheroo. She kept her gaze trained on Potter, who had resigned himself to taking notes on McGonagall’s lecture, until a paper appeared on the desk in front of her.

**Nice technique.**

Lily shot a quizzical glance at Sirius, who was already scribbling another note.

**Looking longingly at you is James’ typical classroom habit. No one will notice a thing.**

Lily glared at Sirius, who quirked his mouth into an annoying smile. 

_Bugger off._

Another piece of paper appeared in front of her in a flash. Years of practice had clearly made the Marauders exceedingly adept at not paying attention in class.

**_You alright, Evans?_ **

Lily shot another glare at Potter, who had the common sense to look sheepish (although it meant less when coming from her freckled face).

_What do you think? I’m in your body._

**_Could be worse. At least I’m very sexy._ **

_I swear, if you get caught passing notes or wreaking havoc or Merlin forbid, get detention when looking like me, I will end your life._

**_Right-o. So, how do we fix this, do you think?_ **

_If you hadn’t been so late this morning we could’ve already covered this. While Sirius and I waited for you at breakfast, Remus and Peter went to the library and got a Potions book. I think I can brew the antidote, it doesn’t look too time-consuming although it’s finicky. I’m going to try and start it during lunch break. Slughorn won’t question it if I go into his stores._

**_So they all know about our… condition?_ **

_Yes, obviously. Didn’t you tell my friends?_

**_Didn’t see them._ **

“Potter,” McGonagall said, and Lily’s head snapped up. “Something to share with the class? Or can you let Miss Evans return to her coursework?”

From her side, she heard Sirius let out a short laugh, and her face burned. “Sorry, Professor,” she said, weighing her options. Potter was beside her, silently shaking with laughter, so she scrunched up her nose and went for it. “I can’t help it, you know. I’ve been bothering Evans for years, I couldn’t stop now.”

Down the row, Remus sputtered and Sirius looked positively gleeful. Potter, on the other hand, had matched her steely gaze. Lily felt her stomach sink — nothing she could say could be more embarrassing or unexpected than the things Potter had already said (“McGonagall, you’re the most beautiful witch alive. Evans, you’re second” probably took the cake) — but Potter could still very well do damage to her reputation, and so she shut her mouth in a firm line and tried to read Potter’s mind. Would he let it go? Or would he use this awful body-swapped situation to bring her down?

He stayed silent. McGonagall, after a moment, rolled her eyes and kept teaching. And Lily, still embarrassed, sent a note Potter’s way.

_Sorry & thank you. _

After Transfiguration, Lily, Potter, and the others all congregated in the hallway. 

“Right,” said Lily, digging around in Potter’s bag for another piece of parchment to give him. “You have to go to Herbology next, and I’m going to Muggle Studies. Just pretend like you know what’s going on, don’t make too much noise, and then we can meet at lunch in the dungeons to start brewing. Don’t get me detention. Please.”

Lily waited for a response, but none came. When she looked up, she saw that Potter was grinning widely at her. It wasn’t any less weird seeing her own face with Potter’s mannerisms than it was seeing the reverse in the mirror. She huffed impatiently and Potter’s grin grew even bigger.

“You know what class I have next,” he said. “You memorized my class schedule.” 

“Bugger off,” said Lily, cheeks blooming, and grabbed Sirius’ elbow. But she heard Potter laugh as they left. 

Muggle Studies was hilarious. Sirius was over-the-top excited about every little item they examined, although Lily figured it was mostly for her benefit. Lily herself could barely hold in her laughter when the class gathered around a cassette tape in breath-baited awe. Overall, it was an enjoyable hour, and when the professor let them out 10 minutes early, Lily was in a great mood.

Until she realized that she really, _really,_ needed to pee.

“Sirius,” she whispered, tugging on his sleeve. He must have heard the concern in her voice, and so he let himself be led to the side of the corridor.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I need to pee.”

Sirius let out one of his trademarked bark-like laughs. “Oh man, I thought you were going to say something that we needed to worry about.”

But Lily was starting to sweat. “Sirius,” she said again. “I can’t… I don’t want…” And she gestured, loosely, at her crotch.

Sirius’s eyes widened. “Merlin’s beard,” he said, a hint of a smile spreading. “You’re gonna see Prongs’ dick!”

“Shhh!!!” Lily hissed, looking around. “Be quiet! What am I supposed to do?”

“There’s no way around it,” said Sirius, the smile now completely taken over his face. “You need to touch it too, you’re going to have to aim at the toilet.”

Lily buried her head in her hands. “Can’t I just sit down or something?” she asked, and Sirius knocked her shoulder. 

“No way. You won’t want to sit on the toilet seats in the boys restroom. You’ll barely be able to stand up in there.” 

Lily broke away from him suddenly, taking full advantage of Potter’s long strides. Sirius caught up with her quickly. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to get Potter from Herbology and ask him permission for me to see his… you know.”

They reached the greenhouse quickly, and Lily could see her red hair in her normal seat next to Hestia. Crouching outside the windows alongside a grumbling (but clearly entertained) Sirius, she tapped on the glass. After a couple tries, Potter looked up from taking notes and made eye contact. She gestured for him to come outside, and he shook his head, confused. Sighing, she gestured again, and watched as he shrugged an excuse at the professor and made his way outside.

The three of them huddled out of view behind some bushes. 

“Alright Evans?” Despite Lily’s stress and bladder, she couldn’t hide the smile that crossed her face watching Potter reach up to ruffle Lily’s red hair. She shook the smile off quickly and leaned towards him.

“I need to pee,” she admitted, blushing, and he responded quickly.

“You need help finding the bathroom?”

When he quirked an eyebrow she pressed on. “I need to… see your…” And she gestured at her crotch once more. His other eyebrow joined the first, halfway up his forehead.

“You mean… you’re going to see… my…” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said Sirius, grabbing both of them by the shoulder. “Prongs, Evans, a dick is a part of life. You’ll both survive. Now go, Lily, before you wet your pants.”


	4. Trouble Brewing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kind words went straight to my heart, dear friends! Thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments, it truly means the world. Sorry for the wait between chapters -- gave you a little bit longer one today as thanks for your patience :)

The Potions dungeon was dingy at the best of times, but now, smoke coiling out to the walls and bat spleens splattered across the tables and surrounding floor space, dingy was far too conservative a descriptor.  _ Disgusting _ was more like it.

“Oh, I think I know what I did wrong,” came James’s voice, low and thoughtful, though of course it was Lily saying it. Lily, who was covered in billywig sting slime, was poring through the ingredients page of the library’s copy of  _ Advanced Antidotes _ . James, who was dripping with salamander blood, made to lean forward to look on with her, but Lily held up a hand and stopped him. “Aha! Yes, I think I might have added the boomslang skin too slowly… see here, it described the additive process as  _ ‘a dash’  _ which makes it seem like a fast motion… yes, that was the step that failed.”

And failed it had. After the mortifying ordeal that was standing outside the boy’s restroom, waiting for Evans and knowing that she was seeing his privates, the two of them had skived off lunch and headed straight for Slughorn’s classroom. Lily had guaranteed the potion wouldn’t take long to set up and that they would be on time for their next class — double Defense Against the Dark Arts with the rest of the Gryffindors — but then things had gone wrong. Slughorn had evidently reorganized his stores, and so it took them much longer than expected to scramble around finding all the ingredients, and then, after adding the boomslang skin too slowly (Lly’s prediction), the cauldron had exploded into a thick burst of fumes and hot liquid. Luckily (again, according to Lily), they were early enough in the process that neither of them were injured or hurt, but now they needed to start over.

James didn’t think it would be that bad —staying in the gloomy dungeons longer with Lily — if he could gaze at her heart shaped face, the crimson chipper bangs that she often had to brush out of her eyes. But he was stuck looking at his  _ own _ face, which wasn’t nearly as fun. 

He should’ve been helping more with the potion, he had to admit, but he had been distracted after accidentally unbuttoning the top button of his own shirt. It had been enough to send him into an internal frenzy. He was not doing well, not at all, ever since he had the vision of Lily seeing his dick. Absolutely bloody  _ mortifying, _ and a tad bit arousing. (It was the latter bit that was the problem).

“James, can you help?” James was startled out of his reverie by an especially Prefecty-sounding Lily, and he started siphoning the ruined potion off the table.

She had called him James. That must have been a first. Was he imagining things, or had she been a bit friendlier to him ever since the whole… pee… situation?

(If Sirius could see the inside of his head, James would’ve been embarrassed beyond words).

“Okay. I think if I’m quick, and I don’t make any other mistakes, we’ll still have time to set this up to brew before DADA. Otherwise we’ll have to try later, and it takes twelve hours to brew, so we’d be stuck in our bodies through tomorrow.”

“Just as long as we’re back to normal before Friday,” said James without thinking. Lily narrowed her eyes in curiosity. 

“What’s Friday?”

Now, James had a choice. He could tell the truth, which was that Friday was a full moon and if they weren’t switched back Lily would have to figure out how to transform into his stag form and fight off Moony as a werewolf (which got James to thinking: could Lily be an Animagus now, when she didn’t know what it felt like to transform? Could  _ James _ transform in  _ Lily’s  _ body?). Or, he could lie, which is what he did, blurting out a stupidly thin answer.

“Quidditch match,” he lied through his teeth.

“On Friday, James?” There it was, calling him James again.

“Did I say Friday? I meant Saturday.”

The two looked at each other for a long, uninterrupted minute. Lily looked disbelieving, and James, uncomfortable, cleaned her robes with a quick Scourgify. Then Lily gasped so quickly that James looked behind him, certain someone had come in. Lily grabbed his shoulder.

“Quidditch! Oh Merlin, you have practice tonight! Oh no, we definitely won’t be back to normal by then, even if the potion works!”

James hadn’t quite thought of that, preoccupied as he was with the rest of the situation. But, his stomach filled with lead, he realized he should’ve been focusing on that a lot more. He was  _ captain,  _ for Merlin’s sake. He was planning on running a new strategic flying formation this evening. 

“I can’t cancel practice,” he said, and Lily closed her mouth, clearly about to ask for that very thing. “We have two options. Either you get detention, and everyone on the Gryffindor Quidditch team gets really mad, or you use my notes and run practice the best you can.”

“I’m rubbish at flying, and you know that,” Lily said, frowning as she started adding ingredients to the cauldron again. “Can I say I feel sick and just give directions from the ground, or something?”

James rubbed his eyes. “I was supposed to run a Chaser play today. You’re gonna need to at least try.”

“Fine,” Lily huffed, pushing black hair out of her sight line. “I really hope this works.”

“How does the potion work anyway?” Again, he made to glance at the textbook. Lily, who was dicing tentacles of some variety, looked thoughtful.

“Well,” she started, “It has a lot to do with theoretical Potions, you know. Most antidotes are attached to a corresponding active potion. This one counters a spell, which makes it a little different. We don’t drink it, for one. It’s applied externally. And the duration of the brewing process — twelve hours — is pretty close to parallel for how long we’ve been affected by the spell. There’s a bit of Muggle maths, really, when you think about. And then, of course, loads of the ingredients are the same as a Polyjuice Potion, like what we did last year with Slughorn. That’s because body-switching has similar elements to Polyjuice, although we are trying to undo that formula.” 

James liked when Lily talked about her passions. It was clear, even now, that she thought about learning all the time, and though James didn’t quite understand her deal about Potions, he could understand the drive, the urgent need to understand. It was, after all, what motivated him to keep with the whole Animagus process, long-winded and tedious though it was. Of course, the real motivation was for Moony, but he couldn’t deny that he loved the adventure of discovery, of Transfiguration, of applying knowledge to practical life. He thought he could understand, then, that even though this situation was mental, Lily could find solace in trying something new and challenging.

Merlin, he liked Lily almost as much as he loved her. Being her friend — was that what they were, after being thrust into this predicament? — was almost as good as those rare moments he thought she might be flirting back. And now, as he peppered Lily lightly with follow-up questions (to get her to beam at him again), he thought that she might feel the same way. Friends, he thought, was a start.

Lily was very capable with her brewing. James offered a few times to help stir and such, but she just smirked and did it herself. Finally, the liquid inside the potion was thickening and steaming gently, and Lily seemed to think it was good enough. They waited for a few more minutes, just to make sure, continuing to chat idly, and then the door to the dungeons opened and James jumped at the noise.

It was Snape.

James and Lily spoke at once. From James: “What are  _ you _ doing here?” From Lily: “Sev, what?”

They realized they fucked up at the same time. Lily opened and closed her mouth once, clearly shaken. But Snape was looking at James with a revolting sappiness, eyes bulging, hands gesturing like ravens at his sides.

“I could ask you the same,” Snape decided on, finally. “Why are you down here with  _ him?” _ he asked, jerking his head towards Lily, although of course Snape thought it was  _ James,  _ and James could see in Lily’s (er, his) eyes that she didn’t want him to engage, that she thought she could handle it.  _ Let her try, _ said a small voice in James’s chest.  _ Let her see from an outside standpoint how horrible Snivellus is. _

“We were brewing a potion,” Lily said. 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” said Snape snidely, not even glancing at Lily. He was still meeting James’s eyes with an unsettling intensity. James balled his hands into fists under the desk.

“What he said,” James tilted his head at Lily. “We’re brewing.”

“What are you brewing?” Snape moved his drippy, overhanging nose towards their cauldron, and while it wasn’t illegal to brew antidotes, James felt there was suspicion in the way Snape’s nostrils flared.

“None of your business,” said Lily, and in a flash, she had stood up and grabbed the cauldron. Snape sneered.

“You probably don’t even know,” said Snape, eyes glinting. “You think you’re so smart, waving your wand around and sticking your overly large head everywhere. But you just leech off of smarter, more capable people. You and your three little friends are dumber combined than Lily or I individually.”

James let out a snort at that, but Lily’s eyes (hazel, behind his glasses) flashed, and she was pointing right at Snape’s forehead. Her voice was strained.

“You asshole,” she said. “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong.”

Snape let out a short laugh, but it wasn’t warm and comforting like Padfoot’s barklike snorts. No, Snape laughing was forced out like mud through a rusted pipe.

“As conceited as always, Potter,” Snape snarled. Snape turned back to face James. “I don’t know how you stand him, Lily. You always hated him. You complained about him constantly.”

A sinking feeling in his stomach was stopping James from speaking. His gaze darted back to Lily, who made eye contact and nodded at him. She clearly was trying to get him to say something, but he couldn’t imagine what it was. He shook his head back at her, trying to ask for clarification, and all the while Snape was continuing to berate James (though directed at Lily).

Lily took James’s hand and held it, on the table, for all to see. James wasn’t sure who stared at it more confusedly — Snape or himself. James felt his heart hammering from the inside of his chest and almost opened his mouth to speak (probably to ruin the whole thing) but Snape beat him to it.

“Lily, you aren’t… together, are you?” James would have laughed at the disgust in Snape’s voice but Lily squeezed his fingers harder and he realized he was meant to speak.

But he had no clue — not one — as to what Lily wanted him to say. 

What in the name of Merlin… 

In the intervening silence, Snape had turned to Lily, who, of course, he thought was James. 

“Your family must be so pleased,” Snape said, his voice low and almost feral, “that their only son is a blood traitor.”

_ Thwack. _

Snape stumbled back, cradling his cheek in one hand. James quickly pieced together what had happened — clearly, he had snapped and punched Snape in the face with his favored right hand, which had been the one Lily was holding. Lily, who had kept holding his hand the whole time. Snape had been hit by the combined weight of both their hands. He was sure to bruise.

“C’mon, Evans,” said Lily, stumbling over her own last name and levitating the cauldron to the cupboards. “We have Defense.”

All through the double DADA lesson, hearing Lily’s quill scratch next to him, James mulled over the feeling of their hands intertwined, and the fact that she had called him by his first name.


	5. Thinking

Walking through the world as James Potter definitely had its perks. 

First of all, Lily was privy to loads of Marauder secrets right off the bat. Peter Pettigrew seemed to keep forgetting she was really Lily under all the pomp and circumstance, and so he consistently blurted out past pranks or fun facts. For example, midway through Defense, when Lily was helping Peter get the incantation right for their counterjinx, she discovered that it was in fact James and Sirius’ fault that the Hogwarts silverware turned purple for a week in first year, received confirmation that Potter did in fact have a scar on his buttcheek, and she now knew to avoid the fourth floor West corridor because Sirius was going to try and streak down in midday next Wednesday.

“Peter,” said Remus, through gritted teeth — Sirius had just hit him in the ribs with a spell and he was currently bent over at the waist trying to catch his breath. “For the fiftieth time, are you absolutely positive you want Lily to know all our secrets?”

Peter scrunched up his forehead and squealed. “I keep forgetting! Sorry Lily,” he said, turning to her. “You look just like James.”

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” asked Sirius, twirling his wand between his fingers and aiming again at Remus, who wheezed and held a hand up in pause. 

As Peter spluttered in his attempts at a scathing response, Lily turned her eyes to James. He was across the room, partnering with Marlene, who was giving him a pretty good fight in their mock dueling session. Watching him duel in her body, her familiar red hair flashing like a flame as he jumped hitherto, his arm askance but direct in his spellcasting, was entrancing. 

In fact, Lily was loathe to admit, everything he had been doing all day was entrancing. It was odd, really, how she found herself seeing so much of James in her own body. Like when they dashed to Defense Against the Dark Arts as not to be late, but he still opened the door for her, as gallant and presumptuous as ever. 

She was seeing the true James Potter for the first time today, she decided. His friends teased him but respected him. When she walked across the hallways, she would see admiration in the eyes of her younger classmates. One first year girl had even come up to her to ask when he was available next for their Transfiguration tutoring session, which was… undoubtedly… adorable. And charming. And helpful and surprising and _not_ the pompous brat that she failed at convincing herself that she saw in him everyday. It was getting harder and harder throughout this day to ignore the feeling that James was _good_ , and the even smaller, more direct voice that told her he would be good at being her boyfriend, and good at cuddling, and good at sex.

Because then there was his… well, yes. His penis.

Lily flushed at even the _thought._ Because it had been mortifying, walking into the boys restroom, finding a stall (it wasn’t like she was going to risk the urinal — she was a Gryffindor but surely no one is _that_ brave) and locking the door behind her. She had known she would have to look, would have to touch. But still, unzipping his trousers, a nagging voice at the back of her head wished that he had been there with her as she was doing it. She had imagined it then, if James had slipped into the bathroom with her, sat in the next stall maybe. He could’ve eased her nerves in the simple way that he does — by absorbing her anxious energy in a cute maniacal stream of consciousness monologue. 

But he wasn’t there, because it would’ve been inexplicable to have Lily Evans follow him into the bathroom, Prefect and Prude (she was certainly _not_ a prude but there was a wrongful perception out there).

So Lily was here, alone. About to hold James Potter’s dick. In her hands. Okay, here goes.

Lily, ever the cliche smasher, let out a breath she absolutely knew she was holding, because she had been holding her breath on purpose. 

James Potter had a nice dick.

Okay, so that wasn’t surprising. _Why not?_ Lily told her inner voice to shut up for just one minute because she was holding James Potter’s dick, and it seemed more fragile than she had anticipated, and aiming was going to be a problem.

She had peed, and washed her hands, and emerged from the bathroom to make embarrassed and blushy eye contact with James. But something had changed between them, even if it was mostly on her end. They had just done something very intimate together (although she had been solitary). It would be like if James wanked off to the idea of her (a concept Lily entertained in her mind only briefly, because she had felt blood flow to her crotch and she was _not_ going to pop a boner while in James’s body, that was where she drew the line). In fact, although she would never in a million years admit it to anyone _ever_ , there was something definitely arousing about the whole body switch situation. Sure, James's body was sexy, she couldn't deny that any longer, but she found herself a little turned on whenever she saw James do some classically James move — ruffle his hair, aim for his glasses — in her body. It was confusing.

“Expelliarmus!” said a triumphant Peter, successfully disarming her, and Lily snapped back to where she was — namely, DADA. 

“Distracted, Evans?” asked Sirius with a look in his eye that made her blush and turn away.

After Defense Remus very helpfully showed Lily how to get into the kitchens so she could quiet her growling stomach, and then they had an early evening Astronomy class, which went by quickly because Dorcas Meadowes accidentally dropped her quill, which exploded into glitter and made for a 45-minute long interlude full of scrubbing the telescope lenses. 

As Lily headed down to the Great Hall for dinner, James took her elbow gently. 

“I can try and explain the Quidditch plays the best I can during dinner,” he said, and his face looked so earnest that she agreed immediately.

Of course, Quidditch practice was awful. James’s broomstick lurched uncomfortably during the warmup, and everyone on the team was looking to her for feedback nearly every other minute. Lily was a whiz at memorization, so she was able to explain the new strategies on a whiteboard with a militant accuracy, but once they got in the air she was just focusing on not falling off. The players could tell something was off, but when she told them she had a headache they just shrugged and continued their work. She kept them in the air for 90 minutes, because James had warned if she let up practice a minute earlier the team would take his body to St. Mungo’s to check for a Slytherin-incurred Imperius Curse.

What James hadn’t warned her about was the showers. Once Lily staggered off the broom, as dizzy as she would’ve been after a muggle rollercoaster ride, her male teammates patted her on the back and led her, almost magnetically, to the showers.

She was sweaty. She knew she needed to shower. And a growing part of her (not James’s dick, obviously — something closer to her heart) wanted to. So she stripped off and stepped under the spray and tried to ignore the way her heart beat faster when she ran a soapy hand over her (his) muscular clavicle. How was it that even his CLAVICLE (a bone???) was muscular!? He certainly looked much skinnier under sweaters. Not that Lily paid a lot of attention to him when he wore his sweaters. 

His grey sweater was her favorite.

Lily and James were back in the dungeons, having avoided detection by Filch only because of a piece of parchment that James resolutely refused to let Lily see, and Lily was comparing the consistency of the antidote to the textbook description. James, on the other hand, wasn’t even pretending to understand her mutterings on viscosity and grittiness. He had stretched out over several stools, making her short frame look at least two feet taller.

“You’re brilliant, you know.”

Lily looked up. James had his hand in his hair, casual, but he was looking right at her. She kept her voice light and teasing in response.

“You think so?”

“I know so. You pretend like it's normal to be so engrossed in magical theory, but I reckon you’re one of the only ones who actually understands the stuff.” He pauses for a millisecond, then blurts out, “My dad would love you.”

Lily ducks back into the cauldron so he wouldn’t see her smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” James pushed himself up to his elbows. “Actually, my mum would love you too. She would think you're funny.”

“I think I’d like your parents,” Lily said, not quite fully paying attention as she ladled the potion into a glass flask she stole from Slughorn’s closet. “If they’re an ounce like you then family dinners would be a lot of fun and highly flammable.”

James didn’t respond, and when Lily looked up, she saw a familiar look of befuddlement cross his face, recognizable in her pale features. 

“Was that…” he paused. “Were you flirting with me?”

“I don’t know!” Lily shot back reflexively. The two of them stared at each other, then Lily gave a loose giggle, sounding silly in James’ voice, which caused her to laugh for real. The tension broken, James shrugged on his bag and the two of them stood up.

“Right,” said James. “So, we should go back to our dorms and drink this stuff then, yeah?”

“James,” Lily scolded. “Didn’t you listen at all to what I was saying earlier?”

“Probably not, it’s hard to focus when you’re talking in my voice, which isn’t nearly as sexy as yours.”

Lily snorted. “Okay, well, we don’t drink this potion. Unlike the Polyjuice Potion, it has to be taken topically.” 

James gave her a blank look. She sighed and, taking his hand, led him to the door.

“We’re going to the Prefect’s Bathroom, where we will pour this potion into the bath, get naked, and swim around in it.”

James sputtered the entire eight minutes it took to walk there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! This one was a little more thought-based, but don't worry, you'll get some real action in the next one :)


	6. The Switchback

“Oi!”

Over by the side of the pool-sized bathtub, halfway through undressing, Lily paused to raise an eyebrow at James. He was still fully dressed, arms crossed and trying not to fluster himself further. It wasn’t working.

Lily was either incredibly oblivious to what was happening, or she was a better actor than Padfoot when McGonnagall asked him about the paw prints found on his Transfiguration essay. “Yes?” she asked, and it almost sounded sweet, the tosser.

James exhaled indignantly and pressed his fingers to his temples. “Can you be a little less blasé about my body, please?” 

“What, this old thing?” Lily asked, even more blasé, and James had to stifle a laugh under a disgruntled cough. 

“I know I have a hot bod,” said James, trying for cavalier, “but can you relax with the stripper routine?”

Lily smiled at him. “I’ve already been naked today. It’s nothing new. Now come on and take off your clothes.”

James silently thanked Merlin that he was still in Lily’s body for that statement, because the rushing of blood down to his crotch would have certainly resulted in popping a boner right on the spot. Lily had a head start on him, but James started taking off layers too, peeling off Lily’s sweater, unbuttoning her shirt,  _ Godric’s balls,  _ struggling with her bra until he gave up and used magic to unclasp it. 

Keeping his eyes firmly at the ceiling, he quickly voided himself of the rest of Lily’s clothes and joined her at the edge of the bathtub. She had already poured the potion into the water, which was now a vivid grassy green. She dipped a tentative toe into the water, then looked at him from under a flap of his hair. 

“Ready? We’re going to need to submerge ourselves entirely.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

The two of them stepped into the pool together, James giving Lily a wide berth and maintaining his gaze at the mermaid portrait. Swimming out a couple paces until they could both tread water, up to their shoulders under water, Lily plugged her nose with her thumb and pointer finger.

“Okay, try not to inhale too much. It’s fine if you swallow some of the potion, but it probably won’t taste very good. I think we’re going to try and stay underwater for about 30 seconds to get the full effect. The book said 10 seconds but just to be safe.”

James nodded and mimicked her, squeezing his nostrils closed. “One, two, three.”

The two of them bobbed down, and instantly, James felt prickles all over his body. It wasn’t painful, although the tingling felt like tiny needles. He had taken Polyjuice Potion only once in his life, after Sirius had nicked a vial from one of Slughorn’s lessons and the four of them had tried it out for fun, and it felt rather like that, except from the outside in instead of the opposite. He felt his thighs lengthen and his shoulders broaden, and after a few more seconds, keeping his mouth firmly closed, he broke through the surface of the water.

A head of red hair was floating a few meters away from James. It was hazy at best — his eyesight restored to its typical blind-as-a-bat-ness — but from all that he could see and feel of his own body, Lily’s antidote had been successful. He felt a pang of relief, and he understood for the first time that he had been worried. It wasn’t that he doubted Lily’s prowess for Potions and brewing, but he had been worried he would be stuck in Lily’s body for longer, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to deal with knowing that Lily had his dick attached to her.

With that thought, he remembered that he was naked in the Prefect’s bathtub where Lily, nearby, was also naked, and he tried very hard to not think about that any more than was absolutely necessary. He wracked his brain for extremely unsexy memories. Slughorn’s stupid Slug Club parties. Pete’s infected ingrown toenail. His mum’s cerulean coat. The time that Moony, while in werewolf form, had bit off the leg of a rogue bird in the forest and James had seen the bloody stump. Sleekeazy’s side effects: namely, turning his hair purple, smelling like stinksap. Feeling certain that his appendages were all behaving themselves, he called out to her.

“Alright, Evans?” 

“I’m fine, James.” Lily started paddling towards the edge of the pool, and James followed suit. Back in his lanky body, he easily pulled ahead of her and reached the side first. He propelled himself out of the pool and strode forward to pick up his glasses. The world filtered back into focus, and he summoned two towels from the stack in the corner.

He turned around right as Lily was climbing out of the pool, and for a blissful, stupid second, he simply stared at her. She had bunched her wet hair up on the top of her head, leaving bare the curve of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, water dripping down her stomach to her hips and her thighs… 

James swallowed resolutely and shifted his gaze to the far wall. “I have a towel,” he said, unnecessarily, holding it out to the side to her. He heard the plonky footsteps of Lily approach, but she didn’t take the towel. He could feel her body heat near him, though maybe that was just his hopeful imagination. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a step to his left, trying to hold the towel closer to her without touching any part of her, though he desperately wanted to.

“You can look at me,” came Lily’s voice, soft, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“What?”

He felt hands on his face, prising his eyelids open. 

“You can look at me. I looked at you. You can look at me.”

With a gulp and a quick prayer towards whatever god controlled when horny teenage boys popped boners, James opened his eyes a slit. 

Lily was standing in front of him, lips parted slightly, green eyes staring right into his. He kept his line of sight up at her face and her mouth twitched at the side. But below his periphery he could see the hints of her body, soft and beautiful. He might die here, in the Prefect’s bathroom, and honestly, it would be the best way to go. Not his ideal way, which was in a blaze of fire and fighting to protect his friends, but an enjoyable death nonetheless.

“One of the side effects of immersing oneself in an antidote with a base ingredient of salamander blood is profound sensory awareness,” began Lily, and James marveled at how it was possible for the dullest of Potions knowledge to sound fascinating coming from her mind. 

“What’s that mean?” he asked, and he flushed at hearing his voice like that, low and quiet. His heart thudded in his chest.

“It means,” said Lily, and she grinned cheekily, and he could feel his heartbeat pulse all over his body, in his wrists and neck and legs, “that right now our bodies are very sensitive to touch.”

“What—” 

Lily was touching him.  _ Him.  _ Running her fingers up his arm, up to his shoulders and neck, and she pulled at his head and his eyes dropped down to his own hands, which were inching out towards Lily’s chest free of his own doing.

He stepped back like Lily’s touch was burning him, (which it was, in a way), and sputtered at her. She just tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Obviously I want you to touch me!” he blurted, then raked a hand through his hair. “But I don’t think  _ you _ want to touch me, not if it’s just some bloody  _ side effect _ from the fumes of a potion, not after the day we just had!”

“Don’t be stupid, James,” and it was the sound of her saying his first name that calmed him down, because if that wasn’t a fucking sign...

He went to turn away from her and then his body jack-knifed unwillingly because Lily had taken his cock into her hand and  _ Merlin _ squeezed it gently.

“Shh,” she said into his ear, and he nearly fell over as she started moving her hand. “I want to touch you  _ because _ of the day we just had, you stupid boy.”

So James gave in.

Lily’s hand was hesitant at first, but James didn’t mind one bit. He was having trouble focusing his eyes but his sight was filled with the top of Lily’s head and the dark red hair he found there, smelling like citrus and jasmine shampoo. Slowly, he touched Lily’s hip, then the curve of her bum, then, gently, moved his fingers to the heat between her inner thighs. Lily gasped and her head lolled forward onto his chest as he pressed one finger into her. This was something he hadn’t done before, but not for lack of thinking about it, and from the way Lily was breathing, he thought he maybe was getting the hang of it. He pressed another finger up into her, curling at the finger joints, and she moaned. 

Something was coiling in the pit of his stomach, rushing him forward, and after a minute or two of unadulterated bliss, hearing Lily groan slightly at his torso, James suddenly gave a shout and pushed Lily’s hand away.

“Sorry!” he apologized, panting, and Lily’s face was off his chest again, a quizzical look turned his way.

“Sorry,” he said again. “I… I felt like I was going to pass out if you touched me any longer.”   
“Ah,” said Lily, and he couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh or scold him. He removed his hand from her crotch, then thought better of it.

“Should I — I mean, do you want me to keep going?”

“It’s okay,” said Lily, and then there was a blaze on her face, and she had raised herself up on the balls of her feet and was kissing him like nothing he had ever felt before. 

To his credit, James responded relatively quickly, cradling her jaw and kissing her back. He tried to keep a space between their bodies, but then Lily’s arm snaked around his waist and pulled him flush against her, so he knew she could feel that he was still hard, and it was all so confusingly arousing, he didn’t know what got into Lily except that she smelled clean and was doing something with her tongue that he would never forget.

James had been snogged before — despite his all-consuming crush on Lily that lasted since the beginning of his fourth year, he had gone out with other girls before. But nothing like this, where he felt almost euphoric. His head was muddled with flashes of Lily — the way she bit her fingernails when she was nervous, the way she would smile at him across the breakfast table sometimes, her green eyes, her long hair. Her hair, which he now pulled out of its messy bun so it streamed down into his fingers. He had touched her hair all day when it was on his head, and now, because it was attached to her, he tugged on it lightly, drawing a muffled sound from Lily’s throat. He ran his fingers through her hair, then nestled his hands at the nape of her neck, feeling the firm bone of her skull and vertebrae and feeling himself more like jelly than like a man.

“Okay,” Lily said, still pressed against his lips, and she retreated back to equal weight on her heels. James followed her with his head, and she obliged him with another quick kiss before speaking again. “It’s after midnight, and we should probably head back to the dorms before we lose all hope of a restful night’s sleep.”

“Too late for me, thanks to you,” James muttered, and he pressed a kiss on Lily’s temple, her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth that twitched up even now into a half-smile. Then he straightened up to his full height and fixed his glasses, which had gone askew. “But you’re right. We’ll finish this later.” And he winked at Lily, who winked right back at him. 

The two of them snuck quiet glances at each other as they cleaned up, Lily conjuring a bathrobe and James drying himself off with a quick charm before making his way to the pile of his clothes carefully folded by Lily.

“When I find out whoever hexed us I’m going to jinx them into the next century.” Lily was bent down at the pool, siphoning off dried potion from the floor.   
“I dunno,” said James, pulling his pants on and admiring the view of Lily’s hair falling over her face, her lips still red and swollen from snogging him, lowly James Potter, undeserving of being ravished by wayward witches with dazzling pale freckles and 10 OWLS and the name Lily Evans. “I might just thank them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for indulging me in this tropey nonsense :) I'm still getting back in the groove of writing FF, which I haven't done in quite some time. but this was a fun exercise and i'm glad some of you enjoyed it! <3


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